The untold stories
by I'mprobablyprocrastinating
Summary: A series of funny and serious one shots about various characters in Robin Hood. Based on quotes in the show and how things could have changed, as well as other random ideas. Chapter 2- Much wasn't a huge fan of the desert, in fact he hated it. The last time he'd visited the Holy Land Robin had nearly died, he doubted this time around would be any better. Alternate ending to 2x13
1. A good man

**So this is my first Robin Hood fic and i'm basically planning on doing several short sort of stories that i have thought of from the show. Some people might be able to guess what this first one is about from the name 'A good man' but i'm not sure. I guess it all depends on what you remember from the show and what characters you like.**

 **Disclaimer: I own none of the characters here.**

A good man

He knew what he had to do. What he wanted to do. He knew now more than ever. He hater what he'd done to himself and to the gang. He'd become a traitor. He'd lied to the gang and to himself. Every time he betrayed them, told Gisborne about an ambush Robin had planned, Allan had spun himself a story, a reason, a lie. Allan had told himself that he hadn't had a choice, that he was stuck and he had to do this. He did it to try and ease the guilt that had slowly been growing in him. He did it to try and convince himself that he was doing the right thing. It never worked but it distracted him for long enough to go to the inn and tell Gisborne what he knew. Then it was too late. He couldn't do anything. If he told Robin Gisborne would know he had betrayed him too. No matter what he did he'd end up with nothing.

But he knew now. The conversation with Djaq was the final straw that had helped him come here tonight. 'You're a good man Allan-a-dale.' He doubted it. What good man lied to his friends to save himself? He wasn't good. But when Djaq had turned to look at him Allan saw in her eyes that she genuinely believed in her own words. She genuinely believed in him. And somehow, having her behind him, believing in him made it all so much easier. It took a weight off of his back that he didn't realise was there. It gave him the hope and courage he needed to do what he knew was right. To do what he had wanted to do from the beginning. He dreaded to think about what Gisborne would do if he was ever captured by the sheriff again but he pushed it to the back of his mind. That thought, although terrifying to think about, was something he'd deal with in the future.

As he walked into the inn and climbed the stairs he felt a flood of relief wash over him. He would do this. This would be finished. He knew he'd finally be able to look at his friends and feel more than just guilt. Something flashed across his face at that one simple thought. It wasn't a smile, not yet, but it was something. Something that made him feel almost happy.

"You're late" a dark haired women said as he stepped through the door of the inn. She slung a cloth over her shoulder and casually said, "I was gonna give your money back."Allan just watched the amused woman and then as she moved away from him he followed.

About that," he said making his way over to a table that didn't still have evidence of the previous day of work. "I'm not"- Whatever Allan was going to say however was cut off by the woman in front of him. She didn't care about what he had to say.

"It's silver, not gold" she said putting down a bag of coins on the table the size of her fist. Allan knew she didn't care who he was. He knew that she didn't care about him working for Gisborne, she gave him the money and was probably paid herself for doing so.

"Look" he said picking up the money and slamming it down onto the table to prove his point. The woman watched him, still not bothered by his harsh actions. "You're to tell Gisborne that he can keep his money, I'm not a part of this anymore." At this the woman looked slightly shocked but it was quickly hidden behind a smirk. A woman who he'd hardly spoken a word to thoguth him to be a traitor. She didn't look at him witht any emotion because she didn't care about anything other than him being a traitor. This woman who knew nothing about him was shocked that he was backing out of the deal and refusing to take the money. Allan looked down, the confidence he had, the confidence he needed to carry on with what he was doing vanishing quickly. The familiar voice of the only woman in the gang entered his head again.

'You're a good man.'

He had to do this. He'd gone too far already and he didn't want to get pulled in by Gisborne any further. He didn't want to be a part of Gisborne's plan.

"It's a bit late to have a conscience isn't it?" she asked, mocking him. He thought back to what Djaq had said again. She believed he could do this. Someone else believed he could. He just had to believe he could. He stared back at the woman feeling nothing.

He knew the answer to that question. "Yeah it is, but you tell him I'm done, I don't want any other part of this." He put as much confidence in his voice as he could even thought he didn't feel any of it on the inside. Allan opened his mouth to speak again but stopped in his tracks as something pierced the bag of money he still clutched in his hand. He closed his eyes in despair and bit back the sigh that wanted to pass his lips. The sigh instead turned to one word.

"Robin." The name usually bought hope with it but right now for Allan, it meant the opposite. Instead of feeling hopeful, it made him lose the small amount of hope he had left inside of him. There was a long silence that no one knew how to fill and felt longer for Allan who had several thoughts travelling around in his head. None of them were anything good. He had nothing to say yet he had to say something. The silence was unbearable and he needed to fill it. "You're early." It wasn't a question. It was a statement that he wished he didn't have to say. Of course Robin was early. Why wouldn't he be?

"Get out" Robin said to the woman but he didn't look away from Allan.

"Stay here" Allan said quickly, too quickly. He didn't think he'd be able to do this on his own in front of Robin.

"Get out!" Robin shouted, anger laced into each of the two words. This only helped to confirm the hopeless feeling Allan had welling up inside of him. The women left quickly at the sudden outburst and Allan couldn't blame her. He wanted to be the one to leave. "I need to talk to my spy" Robin said with his eyes still fixed firmly on Allan. Allan bit the inside of his mouth, trying to gain some confidence. Again Djaq's voice came into his head.

"What was that with Will?" Allan asked already knowing the answer and wishing he'd realised it sooner.

"It was an act. A way to draw out the spy. Only she knew who they were, for all I knew, it could have been Will standing there" Robin said walking away from him. He turned and faced Allan, his eyes growing colder. "But it wasn't was it? It was you."

"It's not what it looks like alright" Allan started, trying to gather his thoughts. "I was giving the money back."

"That's not what it looked like to men" Robin said raising is eyebrows at Allan, testing him.

"It was" Allan replied forcefully. "It was. I was telling her it was over, that I was done. I was giving the money back." He knew it sound stupid, that it sounded like a lie but he said it anyway, trying to show Robin that was he was saying was the truth. He had to make Robin believe him.

"So this is it? You betray me. You betray the gang. And for what? A few coins." Allan wanted to speak up. He wanted to tell Robin that that wasn't the reason. He wanted to tell the man he'd done it to stop Gisborne from killing him but he didn't. After he'd escaped from the dungeons he didn't have to go back but he did. And he went back again after that, and again and again. He bit his lip harder to distract himself from his own thoughts. They were only making him feel that much worse. "What have you told Gisborne?"

"Nothing" Allan said. And that was the truth. Gisborne knew nothing that could harm anyone. This didn't help lift any of the guilt though. If anything it made him feel worse. He sold out his friends with hardly any information.

"What does he know?" Robin asked again, slamming his fist down on the table in anger.

"Nothing!" Allan said back. "I swear. He knows nothing."

Robin smiled, however the smile didn't reach his eyes. It was bitter and disbelieving. "So you didn't tell him about the camp? About the gang? About Marian?"

"No I wouldn't do that"-

"Really? So what? Gisborne gave you the coins for nothing did he?" Robin looked away from him and let out a shaky breath as he did his best to hold back some of his anger.

"No" Allan said regretting his answer instantly as Robin turned to him with irritation written as clear as day across his face.

"Then you did tell him." The statement was said in a low voice yet Allan could still feel the conviction and hatred behind it.

"No I…" Allan closed his eyes not knowing what to say. Anything he could say would just put him in a worse position and he wasn't going to lie to get himself out of this. No, he deserved to be here and he would get himself out by telling Robin the truth for once. He'd tell him what he'd wanted to tell them all back at the camp when he'd first accepted the offer so many months ago. "I… Gisborne he doesn't…" This time Allan did sigh. Every time he tried to speak his mind his thoughts mixed together and he could feel his own anger rising within himself now. Anger towards Robin for not believing him. Towards Gisborne for capturing him and giving him the offer. Towards the sheriff for outlawing him just over a year ago. He even felt anger towards the others back at the camp. But he knew that all if his that anger was directed at himself though, and he was just coming up with excuses to ease it from him.

Before he knew what had happened he felt his head hit painfully hard with a wooden support beam in the inn. He groaned and opened his eyes through that and came face to face with Robin who had his hand gripped threateningly around Allan's neck. Fear quickly wrapped its way around Allan's heart. More than it had already. "What, did you tell him?" Robin asked barely above a whisper.

"Nothing impor…" He stopped himself. Everything he'd told Gisborne was important, whether it endangered his friends or not. "Nothing about the camp, or Marian, or the others. It was simple stuff. He wanted to know when you were gonna ambush the tax money or if you were gonna steal from him and the sheriff."

"And you told him all of that for some coins?" Robin shook his head in disappointment.

"No I… Yeah but it's not what it looks like. He captured me Robin. When I was in the tavern. He had me tortured and he was gonna kill me. I was weak, he played me. He knew what I was thinking. My fears. He used them against me and I gave in. I regret saying yes but every time I tried to stop I seemed to get stuck further in. I didn't know what to do." Allan knew he sounded weak. That he was almost begging Robin to forgive him but he had to get the man to see he meant everything that he was saying.

"You could have come to me. To Will. Djaq Much. John. You could have even gone to Marian. We were all your friends, we would have listened." Robin didn't seem to notice his use of the word 'were' but Allan did and it hurt him more than anything.

"I know. I wanted to"-

"Then why didn't you?" Robin said as he released his grip on Allan's throat a little. He still looked like he wanted to throw a punch at Allan though.

There was silence for several seconds as Allan thought about the question. "I don't know" he finally said. "I wanted to but every time I tried I… I couldn't face it, seeing the look on your faces. The hatred."

"Well you are now" was all Robin said and he turned from Allan and walked away from him. Cautiously, Allan moved away from the beam fighting the urge he had to rub the back of his head. Robin stayed with his back facing Allan and he played with the tip of his bow that he still held in one hand. Allan on the other hand found something interesting to look at on the floor. He wasn't actually looking at anything particular but he didn't want to have to look at Robin's back. There was a scowl plastered in his face but it wasn't directed at anyone. How had this gotten so out of hand? Why hadn't he told anyone this at the beginning? He could have spoken to someone like Robin had said. They would have helped him. That was their job after all, to help those who needed it. He needed it. All he would've had to do was tell one of his friends and they would have helped him. They would have found a way to help him get out of the situation. That was the worst part though. That was why Allan hated himself so much for what he'd done. He'd had so many opportunities to tell someone and he hadn't. He'd let himself be beaten down by Gisborne. He'd let the man turn everyone against him without a fight and he'd done nothing to help himself. Not once. Instead he'd just gone along with it. He'd let Gisborne walk all over him. Robin looked out for them. They all looked out for each other. Will would have listened to him. The man was like a younger brother to Allan and he knew that Will would have given him a chance to explain himself. Even Much would have listened to him and everyone knew they never agreed on anything. Djaq had given him the chance to confess. She'd basically told him she knew he was the traitor in the camp but he'd ignored her, pretended the conversation hadn't happened. But then again, he hadn't. He was here, fighting for himself now because she believed he could.

"Give me another chance Robin. Please. I've changed. I came here to stop it." Robin still didn't look at him. He didn't even acknowledge Allan's plea. The older man seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and Allan wondered whether he should repeat himself.

After another uncomfortable minute of silence Robin spoke up. He no longer sounded angry, although Allan knew for a fact that the man still was. Instead he sounded strained, like he was having his own internal battle. "Because you knew the game up." Robin looked into Allan's eyes and waited for him to reply. He was reading Allan's body movements, reading into what he was saying. He was waiting for a reply, ready to see if Allan was lying.

"No" Allan said confidently. "I wanted to tell you. I did, I swear, since the beginning but I couldn't face up to what I'd done. I knew that what I was doing was wrong but I was…" Allan hesitated, unsure of himself and his next words.

"But you were what?" Robin questioned but Allan still hesitated. Robin repeated the question more forcefully, his eyes remaining on Allan's to see if the younger man was being truthful and genuine.

Allan clenched and unclenched his jaw and took a breath to build up his confidence. "Scared, Robin. I was scared. Please. Give me a chance to make up for it. Let me prove it."

"I can't."

"Please Robin. I won't mess it up." He sounded desperate but he didn't care. He was desperate. He wanted his friend to believe him. he wanted to prove that he was sorry. He wanted a second chance at the life he enjoyed, where he felt he had been doing the right thing. Where he'd turned his life around. Before he met Robin and Much he had been a liar, a thief, a criminal. He still was but now he was doing it for the right reasons, he was doing it to help people and he wanted to carry on doing that. They were his only friends. They were the only family that he had left and he didn't want to leave them.

"How can I trust you?" Robin asked Allan although he seemed to be asking himself the same question as he contemplated the answer. Allan wanted to take that as a little hope. He wanted to take that as the conversation going in the right direction, that Robin would let him stay in the band of outlaws but the question said it all. How could Robin trust him? How could anyone trust him after this? "How can I trust you Allan?" Robin repeated although his full attention was now on the outlaw in grey.

Allan's jaw clenched together again as he thought about the question. He racked his brain for answer but he found none. Robin was standing opposite him, waiting patiently for him to think of an answer. He seemed happy to give Allan all of the time in the world to find one but Allan couldn't. There was none.

The last little bit oh hope simmered away in Allan as his world seemed to be collapsing around him and he let out a sigh. The sigh seemed to show all of his emotions. Anger, sadness, loneliness. He felt all of them and they were all his doing. "I don't know" he finally said after several minutes. He went to say more but stopped. It was the truth but if he said it out loud he was signing his own ticket out of the camp.

Robin's eyes narrowed at the flash of hopelessness that crossed Allan's face. "What?" he asked.

"You can't" Allan admitted. He was admitting it to himself as well as Robin.

Robin let out a sigh of his own. "I know" he said and Allan looked at him with slightly red eyes. Allan blinked away the tears. Deep down he knew this was how it would end. He didn't have the courage to confront it before and he knew that the longer he had left it, telling the others the truth, the less chance he'd have at being forgiven. When the arrow had planted itself in the money bag Allan had known how it would end. "The worst part is I want to. I want to give you a second chance to prove yourself. Allan listened to what the other man had to say. He could see the conflict written across the other man's face or at least he though he did. He didn't know if that was just him wishing it to be there. "I can" he thought.

"How?" Robin asked looking from the floor to Allan. Allan looked at Robin, realising he'd spoken his thoughts out loud. The two men were talking to each other yet they both seemed to be talking more to themselves, lost in their own thoughts. Robin wanted to give Allan that chance, he wanted Allan to show his promises were true.

"I don't know" Allan said again, annoying himself with his own repetition.

"Allan" Robin said, probably harsher than he had intended. "I want to trust you but I need you to prove that to me. How would you do it?" He was pressing the matter forward and in so doing forcing Allan to answer him.

"I…" Allan thought about it. What could he do to show everyone that he was sorry? How could he? He'd sold out his friends for a few coins. Coins that he wasn't even using, coins that were hidden under a tree… "The money Gisborne gave me. I could give it to the gang for the rounds" Allan said. It wasn't much but he couldn't think of anything else and he had to say something. "There's enough for a village or two. A few bags."

Robin nodded. "That would be a start. You'd have to tell the gang too. It was your choices that got you into this. You're the one that has to pull yourself out."

Allan stayed silent, only half listening to what was being said. Robin was right, he would have to tell the gang on his own. They needed to know and they needed to know from him if he was going to join them again. Allan stopped his train of thoughts and looked up to Robin whose arms were folded and was watching Allan carefully. "Are you saying you'll give me a chance?"

"Robin stayed silent but nodded. "If you're willing to take it."

"I am" Allan said quickly. "I will."

"And if the gang are willing to give you one too" he added to remind Allan of the important details. If letting Allan started to affect the group then Robin would have to rethink his answer. Both of them knew that. Allan nodded. "Then you will," Robin said picking up the bag of coins that were still waiting on the table. He pulled his arrow from the bag and then tossed the bag over to Allan as he walked towards the exit of the inn, silently telling Allan to follow him.

Allan did but stopped at the door. "I never said it before, but I am sorry. For everything."

Robin nodded lost in his own thoughts again. "I know, but you need to prove it to the others." Allan nodded again and this time followed Robin from the inn without stopping. The walk was quiet with both of them thinking their own things. Allan was shocked that he was leaving the inn but still as a member of Robin Hood's gang. He'd prove it to everyone. He'd tell them what had happened, he'd tell them everything, but he'd also talk to Djaq and say thank you. Whether she knew it or not, she'd helped Allan go through with what he'd wanted to do since the beginning and he knew that for certain.

 **So what do you think?** **I'm not sure if i was happy with the ending to this but i couldn't find a better one so i left it how it is. I don't know about anyone else but I always thought that Djaq's small speech to Allan in that episode would have been one of the reasons he managed to go and and not accept the money, even if it went all wrong after that. But i also felt that if the two had acted differently in the scene it could have all gone a completely opposite way and this was how i wish it could have gone, as Allan is my favourite character and it was the worst thing when he was kicked from the gang. And his death, but we forget that ever happened. Anyway, let me know what you think and if you have any ideas for any other small stories like this then let me know and i'll happily write them and add them here, and give you credit for the idea too. Thanks for reading.**

 **I'mprobablyprocrastinating.**


	2. A different path, part 1

**So it's been a while since I uploaded this story, but I haven't forgotten about it. Thank you to everyone who favourite and followed, and reviewed the last chapter: Blame Blam, Guest and Penelope Clemence.**

 **This was requested by Penelope Clemence who asked for a re-write of the season 2 finale.**

A different role

He'd forgotten how much he hated the desert. He hated the extreme and unyielding heat in the day and the oppressive bone chilling drop in temperature at night. He hated the sand that seemed to find its way into everything, slowly piling up in his pockets and boots at such a gradual pace that you didn't realise it was even there until there was too much for you to ever be completely rid of it. He hated the constant feeling of dehydration that never seemed to leave you, no matter how much water you drank.

But most of all, Much hated the isolation of it all. You could walk for days and see nothing but the browns and yellows of the sand, see no one and talk to no one. And then after that, even when you made it to a small town or village there was still nothing. The houses were made from the same beige bricks that the sand was made from. People didn't seem to leave their homes and when they did most of them would turn around and head back inside at the site of him. He was an Englishman. Here he was hated by most of the locals. Or feared by them. He was the enemy and he was always in unfamiliar territory, and because of that he always felt that he was a disadvantage. He was always weary, as if a Saracen soldier would run out at him at any moment and end his life. It kept him on edge, and it was only now, after having been gone for almost two years, that he remembered how the desert made you feel.

Scared. Worried. Lonely. Suspicious, whether you trusted the people around you or not.

He always had that small niggling feeling at the back of his mind. Worry for himself and more importantly, worry for his friends.

After he'd left The Holy Land nearly two years ago he thought he'd never need to return. He'd served his time and soon King Richard would return to England. Back home.

But he had returned. And now that he was back he was slowly starting to feel all of those emotions again. It had started out as a small feeling of doubt, but like a dam in a river, once you let one of those feelings in, once a small leak broke through the barricade against the water, it was only a matter of time before they all returned and everything pushed through to the front of your mind, just like the leak soon allowed water to force its way through the dam.

However, unlike before, there was something oddly comforting and relaxing about the Holy land this time around. There was something familiar for Much, something about running through the sand and streets with one thought on his mind. He had an aim. He had a mission. And unlike England, he knew what he had to do, and he knew all of the possible outcomes. In England he was hidden in the forest and he had no idea what was going on in Nottingham except for the information Marian could risk finding, but here, here he knew what was happening, he knew what he had to do and he knew the risks that went with it. It was clear in his site. They would either save the kings life and return home, or they would die trying.

"Come on Much!" Robin shouted from five metres in front of him.

"I'm coming!" Much called back, pushing himself to move faster and ignore the blistering heat. He did so and followed Robin, chasing after the man who seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go. "I'm coming" he repeated, but more to himself this time in an attempt to encourage his movements. Surprisingly it worked, and he gradually caught up with his former master and now brother in arms.

He weaved between the abandoned houses, following Robin down alleyways and streets, chasing a man who had quickly disappeared from their site only minutes ago.

Robin slowed down gradually, making sure he gave Much enough warning so that he could slow down too. "Where's the king?" the archer said with despair, looking between the two alleyways that branched off of the one they were currently standing in, each of them heading in the opposite direction to the other. If they didn't choose the same path as the king then they'd never reach him in time, not unless the others took the right path instead. But that would be a very slim chance. Even slimmer considering this town was a maze and the rest of the gang had probably taken a different path already.

"Where are the others?" Much asked, adding his own question to the mix as his friends safety started coming to the forefront of his mind. Robin turned around to look at Much, glaring at the man and clearly telling him that his question wasn't helping the situation. Much shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry," he stated, although he didn't mean it and he knew that Robin knew that too.

"I don't know," Robin said, answering the man's previous question in a harsher tone than he'd intended to.

"Well, I don't know either," Much said and Robin rolled his eyes, turning back to the two alleys ahead of them.

"I'm sorry," Robin said, realising his mistake. "I didn't mean to"-

"I know" Much cut in. "Which way?" he asked.

"I don't know" Robin replied, both men feeling useless. They fell silent, contemplating what to do, and what felt like hours passed for Much, when really it was only a couple of seconds, before Robin spoke up again. "We split up. I'll go left and you go right, stay close to the walls. It will be harder for them to see you." Much looked at Robin and nodded his understanding. Robin nodded back, "And if you find the king call out. Once we've found him we need everyone there with him." Again Much nodded. "Alright then, on"-

"Wait," Much said, grabbing Robin's shoulder and pointing at the end of the alley on the right where a man dressed in black clothing was rushing past. "That way" he stated, and both men set off down the road without a second thought, neither of them really hearing Much's last comment.

Now having a destination set in their mind, both men ran forwards finding new reserves of energy in their exhausted bodies. This time Much kept up with Robin, both men running at an equal pace, wary of running too fast in case the soldier they were after had suddenly stopped and was waiting to attack them from behind a corner. Which, Much thought rather pessimistically, was more likely to happen than not.

Each time they neared a corner both men would slow down to a light jog, moving further away from the walls of the houses to put as much distance between themselves and the possible soldier just around the corner. No attack came though, but Much did notice the fact that the soldier was always running right instead of left, so if he did decide to stand and fight instead of run he would have the best advantage when hiding behind the corner of a house. He could attack both Robin and Much, only having to show half of his body to use his sword unlike the two outlaws chasing him who would both have to step around the corner completely to even contemplate using their own swords without a building getting in their way. By which time their enemy would have killed one of them, possibly the both of them.

It was slowly becoming a pattern and both Much and Robin could second guess what the man was doing. "Surely we must be going in circles" Much said, slowing down for what felt like the hundredth time.

When they rounded the corner this time both of them stopped in their tracks and neither made any move to continue. "No Much," Robin stated, slowly taking a step forwards. "We're not." Both men were standing in what appeared to be the ruins of a courtyard or town square but what stood out to the both of them immediately were the nine streets that stemmed off of the clearing.

"This is…" Much started but he stopped, unsure of what to say. He kicked at the ground, bringing up a small cloud of dust and sand. "Hopeless" he finished, looking around at all of the possible exits that the Saracen could have taken.

Robin turned on the spot, looking carefully at each exit and glancing at the ground at the beginning of each one for any signs that someone had passed there recently. There were no footprints or scuff marks to indicate such a thing. Robin ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his face in a vain attempt to cool himself down before glancing briefly at the sky. A smile crept onto his face. "Perhaps," he said, running over to one of the buildings and jumping.

"What are you..?" Much stopped talking; catching on to what Robin was doing as he scrambled up the side of a wall and went to copy his actions.

"No!" Robin shouted, holding up his hand as he looked down at Much from where he was on the roofing of a house. Stopping immediately at the sudden shout, Much look directly upwards, only just able to see Robin from his place at the bottom of the house. "Stay there and keep an eye out for the sheriff's men."

Much hesitated, not prepared to leave his friend alone. "Much, I need you to be down there in case anyone passes." After seeing Much nod, Robin started using the added height to his advantage, looking to see where they were and taking his time to look at everything in the hope of finding the king or one of his gang.

Much on the other hand turned away from the building and put his back to his friend, taking up a make shift guard position. He stayed close to the building though, not moving from his spot in case Robin needed him quickly. If he left and Robin needed him there was no way Much could definitely get back to his friend in time, and Much knew that Robin was their best chance at helping the king get out of this alive.

Even as Much thought about him, the king rode around a corner on a sturdy, brown horse, his sword drawn from its scabbard as his eyes flitted about to check for any possible danger. "Robin!" the man called, bringing his sword arm back and then forwards without any hesitation, releasing his grip from the hilt of the sword as he swung his arm forwards. Much watched the sword as it flew through the air, and for a slight moment he wondered whether the king still thought Robin was a threat, but he quickly dispelled the idea. However, when he heard the pained screams of a man he didn't recognise as Robin echo around the courtyard relief flooded over him like a river bursting its banks. Much moved away from the building and looked up, only just seeing the Saracen as he crumpled to the ground, the king's sword protruding from his chest.

Robin, just as shocked as Much, looked at the king and bowed his head in thanks before he cast his gaze around the courtyard looking for any other threat. Seeing none, he called for the King to ride on and then he looked back down at Much. "I thought I said keep an eye out for the sheriffs men," he called to his friend, grinning to show he was joking. If it wasn't for the difficult and life threatening situation Much would have said something back, possibly along the lines of 'you're the one with the bird's eye view, you should have seen him before me', however, unlike his former master, Much wasn't prepared to joke about in a situation like this. Instead he just grimaced back, telling the younger man to concentrate instead of cracking jokes that were only half amusing.

"Much, follow him. Don't let the king out of your site; I'll be following behind you." Much nodded at this and without any objections he ran down the alley the king had already disappeared down, following the path of kicked up dirt and hoof tracks made by the king's horse as it cantered through the streets.

He was doing well on the 'following' part of his instructions, but for the 'keeping the king in his sites' part, he was failing. Not only had the king left the courtyard at least half a minute after Much, which would give the man enough time to stay out of Much's site even if he was on foot, but King Richard was riding a horse trained to run for hours at a time and bred for battle, making it bigger and therefore have larger strides. If it wasn't for the tracks in the sand then Much would be running blind.

"Look at the silver lining, Much," Much muttered to himself as he followed the tracks, "At least the tracks let you know he's still alive." Even as he said that though he felt a slight breeze run between the houses, blowing the grains of sand from their original position and destroying the tracks left by the king ever so slightly. "I hate the desert," Much stated.

This small turn of events did force his legs to move faster than he thought they could though, and he rounded a bend, intent on catching up with the king. He ran for another minute before he heard a shout of pain ahead of him, and without needing to see it Much felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew who the owner of that shout was. The individual horse prints were now closer together, telling Much that the King's horse had slowed down and there was now the occasional drop of blood coating the grains of sand on the floor, the bright red liquid sticking out like a sore thumb on the pale yellow background.

Now certain that the King had been harmed, Much pushed on, ignoring the burning in his legs as he weaved his way through the maze of streets. He only made it another few metres before a man clad in black leather and fur ran from behind a corner ahead of him, a bow and arrows in his hands. A wicked grin flashed across the sheriffs face as he looked at Much, victory evident on his face. "You're too late my friend, the king will be dead before you reach him," the bald man gloated, dropping the bow and arrows into the sand and instead drew his own sword from its scabbard at his side.

"He's still alive," Much stated, hanging onto the small glimpse of hope on offer.

The sheriff shook his head. "No, no, no," the sheriff mocked, "he won't be for much longer. If he doesn't die from blood loss, Gisborne will finish him off for me." The Sheriff's eyes flickered briefly to Much's right just as a blonde man in white and red stopped beside the former manservant.

"I'll get him," Carter said as the sheriff ran down an alley, realising he was now outnumbered by two skilled swordsmen. "You find the king." Before Carter had even finished the sentence the two men were running after their targets, Much only stopping to pick up the Sheriff's now useless bow and arrows. If Gisborne was already with the King then it could only be an advantage for Much if he had a long distance weapon to hand as well. He wasn't as skilled as Robin when it came to using the weapon but he could still hit a target from a long distance.

When he reached the clearing though, the scene before him wasn't at all what he had expected and he stopped in surprise. The king was now lying motionless in the sand, an arrow in his shoulder and his white surcoat slowly turning red around it. What shocked him the most though was Marian, the woman stood between the King as he lay defenceless on the ground and Gisborne, a man who was advancing on the king, brandishing his sword threateningly. Everything started to click together in his head like a puzzle before anything actually happened ahead of him and Much knocked an arrow to the string of the Sheriff's bow as he realised that Gisborne was no longer a threat to the King, but his anger actually directed at Marian. Much bought the bow up and level with Gisborne, pulling the string of the bow back to his chin and aiming all at the same time, and then he released the string. The arrow hitting Gisborne in his sword arms shoulder just as the man suddenly moved towards Marian and pushed his sword towards her stomach.

There was a moments silence as Much watched Gisborne let go of the sword and reach for his shoulder instead, a shout of pain escaping his lips as he did so, but as soon as he saw his arrow hit its target Much turned his attention to Marian.

And then he ran.

The woman was looking down at her stomach in shock, her face pale; momentarily confused until realisation hit her and she fell to the ground too, her face suddenly writhe with pain. "No," he muttered as he reached her side, Gisborne now forgotten somewhere behind him as he pressed his hands around the sword in Marian's stomach, trying to stop the flow of blood that was escaping around the blade.

"Much," Marian said back, her breath laboured. "The king, is he alright?"

Much wanted to shout at the woman. She was slowly bleeding to death and she was concerned with the life of another man. But then he realised that it was Marian, and anyone else in her place, whether it was Robin or John, or even himself, would be doing the same thing. She looked at him, desperately searching his face for answers until he looked up and towards the king, relief flickering on his face as he saw the man role onto his side, now conscious from the sounds and actions happening around him. "Good," she said, although the word mixed together as she painfully breathed out. "Where's Robin?" she asked him, now desperate to see the face of the man she loved. "Is he…?"

"Robin is…" Much got no further as he heard someone scream Marian's name from the direction he'd come and he turned around in time to see Gisborne pushing himself from the ground and look around for the owner of the voice too before he turned and ran past Much and Marian towards the houses behind them. Robin ran towards them and dropped by Much's side. Within seconds Much moved aside and let Robin put his own hands over Marian's wound as the man muttered to the woman quietly under his breath. There were more shouts around them as the rest of the gang quickly filed into the clearing one after another but Much didn't register any of them until Djaq made her way past him and checked the King's shoulder. As soon as she saw it she moved away from him and over to Marian. You didn't need to have any medical knowledge to know Marian's wound was more severe and life threatening than the King's. Nobody seemed to take notice of the Sheriff as he rode out of the village with Gisborne, shouting his final parting words before he left them.

Robin moved his hands from Marian's stomach to let Djaq check her wound and replaced them as soon as she was done. Much watched Djaq looking for any sign, no matter how small, that showed Marian would be alright. The woman looked back at Much as a tear slid down her face and that told Much everything that he needed to know.

He hadn't been fast enough.

He let out his own shuddering breath and forced himself to look away from Djaq to the couple kneeling and lying on the ground. A tear now slid past his own face. He hadn't been fast enough. Marian went to hold the sword but Robin stopped her and before he knew it, Much was blaming himself for what had happened. Marian was bleeding out in front of him and it was because he hadn't reacted to the situation faster, because he had stopped when he saw what was happening instead of acting, because he hadn't fired the arrow or used his sword on Gisborne when he had the chance. He hadn't been fast enough.

~ To be continued~

 **This will be continued in the next chapter because it was starting to get too long and I was only halfway through the next section. Hopefully you all liked this chapter and if any of you have any ideas that you want to see next then tell me in a review and I'll write it after the next chapter.**

 **I'mprobablyprocrastinating.**


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